


Song of the Late Meadowlark

by wisegirlsandvalkyries



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Childhood, F/F, F/M, Family, Family Dynamics, Fluff and Angst, Found Family, Friendship, M/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-10
Updated: 2020-07-10
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:40:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25174027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wisegirlsandvalkyries/pseuds/wisegirlsandvalkyries
Summary: Alice Hawke hopes for promise and opportunity in Kirkwall; she has had enough of heartbreak. Still not entirely over the death of her father, having fled the Fifth Blight, and losing her beloved little sister, she reels from burden and blame. If only there was a way to redeem what she lost, and just maybe find her own story away from the ties that bind her.
Relationships: Fenris/Female Hawke, Fenris/Hawke (Dragon Age)
Kudos: 1





	Song of the Late Meadowlark

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first try at actually publishing fanfic and I'm hoping someone out there will enjoy reading the story as much as I enjoyed writing it. A big thanks to allisondraste for looking over my writing and giving me feedback!

Chapter 1: a promise among the wreckage 

Alice Hawke had always wanted to venture out to sea. She had never thought it would be so…disgusting. Perhaps that’s because in the pirate fantasies of her childhood days she was always a sailor in the crow’s nest or the captain at the helm, not in the hopeless and dank hold with a crowd of grieving, desperate refugees like herself. When she looked around the sad underbelly of the ship, all she could see was the reflection of her mother’s face, the face that spoke her guilt in every line. Carver wouldn’t even talk to her. She still kept trying to make jokes about the smell, but her mother just kept staring at the opposite wall like it was a window. She didn’t appear to hear anything that Alice or Carver said. She had to get out or she was going to go mad.  
She had flirted with the hold guard to let her up on deck for just a few minutes. A young man who couldn’t be much older than herself. His task was an unwanted one, given to him by his superiors, who couldn’t bother being around the stench and sorrow of the needy. He only needed a compliment and a wink. The dagger in his belt would have been truly useless in his callow hands. She knew all this just by watching him for a few minutes. Astute, that had been the word her father had used when describing her observation skills. Often said with a chuckle after those keen observations had gotten her into all sorts of trouble.  
Taking a breath of fresh air as she reached the top step, a strong breeze sent the smell of salt and storm into her lungs. For a second, she was reminded of the awful torment that had sent the hold reeling a few nights ago. She didn’t think anywhere could have ever smelled quite that bad. She shook her head at the memory, took another breath, and found her way to the railing.  
The blue of it all shocked her. She had traveled all over Ferelden for most of her life, yet she had never seen anything like this. She took in another deep breath. The cry of gulls screeched out overhead, every once in a while one of them dived close enough to the waves to snatch up a small fish. The waves collided one over the other into a mesh of netted, beautiful sapphire. Not that she knew what actual sapphires looked like. Standing here looking out at the expanse of the Waking Sea though, she thought she could imagine the color of the jewel. She let out a sigh of relief, maybe something else too. She couldn’t admit it, but she was just as sad and pathetic as the rest of the people down in the hold, certainly just as desperate, if not more. She wondered how Bethany would feel in this circumstance, probably just tell her to keep smiling through, whispering old gossip from Lothering to try and crack a laugh out of her. Carver would pretend to be annoyed, but secretly eavesdrop on their conversation and be glad to have something to abate the boredom and despair. Her mother certainly would scold them as if they were still young, but underneath that veneer she would be happy to have something to preoccupy her time, especially chastising her adult children.  
Alice felt a warm tear trickle down her cheek. She sniffed, placing her palm to her eye and trying to stop more tears from coming forth, like trying to plug up a reservoir. She had wanted to sob then and there when she had seen Bethany’s broken body. Her little sister had lain on the ground all too still, no breath moving her stomach, the color already leaving her cheeks. Alice hadn’t wanted to believe it. She had knelt over her, not understanding, for only the first moment. Then her mother’s cry of grief made her see that her little sister wouldn’t be getting back up. The worst part had been realizing they would have to leave her body, saying what she had to in order to keep her mother and Carver moving. The sound of her mother’s pain filled voice as she blamed her and only her for Bethany’s death.  
“Hawke…er, Alice?” a voice asked from behind her.  
She wiped her eyes quickly, attempting her best to not look as though she had been crying. Of course, she saw from the first moment that Aveline could tell. The way her mouth set in a grim line when she turned around, the shame in her eyes at having come up on her in a moment of privacy, and the way she could see she wanted to say something comforting, but held her tongue.  
“Hawke is fine.” Alice told her.  
“Old habits, from being in the infantry and all. Everyone calls each other by their surnames.”  
Alice just nodded. Her father had been Hawke around Lothering, but she didn’t mind being called by the family name. If anything, it made her feel like smiling in spite of herself.  
“Carver was looking for you. How did you even get up here?”  
Alice smiled, “How did you?”  
“Oh, I made a mild threat to that poor boy they left guarding the door. It was really much easier than I expected.”  
Alice gave a watery chuckle, “I suppose I could have done that.”  
“What did you do?”  
“Gave him a nice compliment from a pretty little lady like myself. He almost stuttered himself into oblivion when he was opening the door for me.”  
Aveline gave a barking, but warm laugh. Alice felt herself smile a little, looking down at the deck. She liked Aveline well enough. They had both lost someone they loved running from the darkspawn, and unlike her family Aveline didn’t blame Alice for Bethany’s death. The same way Alice would never think to blame Aveline for Ser Wesley’s.  
“I had a talk with one of the sailors, another Ostagar survivor…well a deserter, actually. He said we can stay up here for a few more minutes. We should reach Kirkwall by tomorrow.”  
Alice Hawke nodded. She turned her gaze back out onto the ocean just for another minute. Aveline didn’t say anything more. She stood by Hawke for a few moments, then said:  
“They’re going to forgive you someday.”  
Alice exhaled. She wished what Aveline said was true.  
“You don’t know that.”  
“I do, the same way I know I am going to forgive myself someday. I have to.”  
With that said, Aveline walked away back down to the hold. Alice dreaded going back. She did her best to memorize the beauty before her. She steeled herself to face more of her mother’s despondence, more of Carver’s sullen and angry outbursts, more nightmares of Bethany’s fate replayed in her mind over and over. She gripped the railing. She had to be strong. Her father would have wanted her to be.  
Protect this family.  
She had tried so hard to enact his dying wish. She had done her best to step into his shoes. She had mirrored him since she was young, always looking out for Bethany and Carver, breaking up their little squabbles, sending them to bed early when Mother and Father were fighting, and defending them from bullies in the new towns when they had to venture away once again. She had helped train Bethany in her magic, shown Carver how to read a map, and taught the both of them the best way to check the traps they set for animals. She had nurtured their wounds and cooked them meals--when Mother and Father hadn’t been able or were away from the house. She had fended off templars and bandits alike. Once, she had even stood up to a drunken ex-chevalier in the Lothering tavern. She had faced down an ogre with only her staff for defense. None of it had been enough. She would have to try not to let these thoughts haunt her. Kirkwall awaited, and maybe with this new start, she could do better. Maybe she could still salvage some of her promise to her father.


End file.
